Aftertaste
by FirstBloodContest
Summary: Promo Fic for First Blood Contest by SibylVaneVamp. Eric and Pam in their younger years make a new friend in Russell Edginton as Eric learns what it means to spill blood for the first time.


**First Blood Contest**

**Title: **_Aftertaste_

**Writer Status: **_Serial_

**Beta: **_VampLover1_

**Characters: **_Eric, Pam, Russell_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any SVM characters, I just made them do my bidding._

**Notes: **Promo fic for the First Blood Contest, thanks to all the other hosts and judges for making this possible and taking the time to pull this together. 

Some disturbing content here- you've been warned!

Eric Northman had never been a sensitive child; his mother liked to describe him as 'strong-willed' where others would have labelled him a 'brat.' But the day he took a life, something within him changed.

Having always been a busy and determined boy who did things his way, he was never flustered by the departure of his parents, even as a baby. As he grew he became more focused and found he had the ability to influence those around him quite easily. Eric had the confidence of a man, hidden in the packaging of an eight year-old. On more than one occasion a note had been sent home from his teacher to let Eric's mother know of his dominating behaviour over his fellow students; the schoolmistress had identified him as the ringleader behind a dozen incidents,the first of which was a hunger strike in protest of sloppy joes being removed from the cafeteria menu.

Eric often challenged authority just to see how far he could take it; as a toddler he had emptied his mother's wallet into the wind while her back was turned. On his first day of kindergarten, he told his teacher (quite convincingly) that his father was a serial killer who wrote to him from prison where he was serving multiple life sentences. And his first and only visit to summer camp ended with a counselor in tears when a group of children (allegedly at Eric's behest) shaved her eyebrows off while she slept. His charm and wit made him a natural leader, so he never felt guilty about letting a less intelligent student become his pawn.

Pam, one of the younger girls in the neighbourhood, once told him he could "use his powers for good instead of evil." He informed her that didn't sound like any fun. Eventually Eric and Pam began to see eye to eye as she flourished under his tutelage and willingly became his minion. She looked up to him as only a child with no siblings could. Soon she was included in all of his scheming, and the two caused a great deal of mischief. Eric valued her even more when he witnessed her caught red-handed, (literally); but given the opportunity, she didn't tattle on him the way so many others had.

As the last weeks before the end of summer break approached, Eric and Pam watched as the moving truck pulled up across the street, and they examined all the fine furnishings being unloaded.

"Looks like they got a lot of nice stuff; a lot of stuff you're not allowed to touch," said Pam, biting her nails down to the quick.

"Yeah, they must not have a kid. Seem like weirdos to me; all this fancy stuff and they're moving in here?" He motioned to the neighbouring houses with their chipping paint, cracked siding, and unmanicured lawns. Most of the houses on the street were over forty years old and had not been cared for very well. It wasn't exactly a rough part of town, but it certainly wasn't Beverly Hills.

Pam shrugged in response and stood up from her perch on the curb in front of her house. She offered her mother's freshly made cookies to Eric as she stretched, knowing he would join her.

"OK," he twitched in response.

Standing up, he unfolded his long legs and towered over his playmate. Turning towards the house he took a stride in Pam's direction.

She ducked behind him and peeked out from around his arm. "Wait," she hissed. "They _do_ have a kid." Pointing, as if it wasn't obvious enough what she was doing, she moved out of the way of Eric and studied the boy across the road carefully.

As he climbed out of the car he moved with an unsteady footing, as though he had been sitting for too long. But his manner soon changed and his posture became straight and proud. He was older than she or Eric, probably about twelve, with red hair that glowed around him in the glaring sunlight of the afternoon. He seemed a little short for his age and maybe a bit shy. She had never lived anywhere else and figured he might just be scared of living in a new place. Without Eric's approval, she didn't want to go and introduce herself, so she waited for her companion to make the suggestion.

Watching as Pam panted like an excited puppy at the end of her leash, he knew he would have to go and talk to the flame-haired boy. Resolving to keep Pam happy and get it over with, Eric stepped off the curb and sauntered over the scorching asphalt to the house. The boy was older, but with Eric's unusual height Eric was much larger. Pam scurried behind

him to keep up, all while trying to look cool.

With a slight nod of his head Eric said, "Hey," to the new kid. Pam stepped up to his side and followed suit.

"Hi," the boy replied, sizing them up.

Eric was intrigued; this kid seemed to be confident but quiet. There was something he picked up from just the single syllable that told him this boy was not the sort to take direction easily. He wasn't sure he liked that.

"I'm Eric, forty-three," he motioned to his house with his thumb pointing out the house number along with his name. "This is Pam, thirty-seven," he said inclining his head to indicate the girl, and she in turn pointed to her house directly across from them.

"Russell, Russell Eddington," his accented voice had an edge of disappointment to it. Eric was not impressed by his James Bond style, but Pam was buzzing next to him.

With what she assumed was permission to talk, now that the introductions had been made, Pam breached the silence with her own proud voice. "Where'd you move from?"

"Mississippi. My father was the King of the Saks Corporation in Jackson, until they found out he was stealing from them, and now he's in prison. My mom moved us here to be closer to my Grandma." His accent seemed more familiar now that they had identified it, but his tone was one of disdain. It was clear what he thought of his new home. Eric knew this boy would be more difficult to control and decided he wasn't worth the effort - as long as he stayed out of Eric's way.

"OK then, well, we're going to my house for cookies. Bye." Pam's interest was waning. Plus, she wanted to find out what her leader thought of Russell. Squeezing Eric's hand gently with her own, she turned her back on the new arrival. Eric followed her with a casual air; neither looked back.

"So?" Pam asked when they were alone in her room devouring cookies one after another. "What'd you think?"

"Of?" Eric knew what she meant, but he enjoyed teasing her as much as she did him.

"The new kid. Russell?" Her mouth so full of warm chocolate chip mess that she was barely audible.

"Seems like a jerk. I don't think he'll be of any use to us." Another shrug and a bite of cookie signalled the end of the conversation as far as he was concerned, but Pam pressed him again.

"Well, I think he's the perfect patsy. He doesn't have any friends here, and he's kinda weird, no one else will want him."

"You've been watching too much TV, starting to sound like one of those cop shows," he muttered the last part to himself.

"Well, I think we should try to be friends with him, anyways."

Eric didn't say anything in response, knowing once Pam's mind was set there was no swaying her; it was what he loved most about her. Not that he loved girls or anything, even if they did flock to him in droves. On the playground he had avoided more than a few advances by the pigtail set in his year and even more from the younger girls who would run over, stand on tip toe, kiss his cheek and run away giggling. He didn't want to kiss any of them back, but he tolerated it because he knew how others looked at him whenever it happened.

The next day Pam arrived at Eric's house bright and early, before he even had a chance to change out of his Thor pyjamas and into his usual t-shirt and jeans combo.

"What?" he snapped at her through the screen door.

"Just thought you'd want to know a bit more about the new kid. I heard my mom and dad talking last night, and they seem to know a lot about him." Pam's mother was a teacher at a private school across town; she didn't like Eric very much, but her attempts to separate them had been unsuccessful thus far.

Eric's interest in the carrot-topped boy was still low, but he humoured Pam. Dressing quickly into his street clothes and meeting her at the curb, he encouraged Pam to give up all the details she had collected on Russell.

"Turns out he was supposed to be transferred to my mom's class, but then at the last minute his tuition didn't come through. Now he's going to our school instead. My mom even said that she read over his file, and she was relieved not to have to deal with him. She told my dad that she doesn't want me hanging around him." Her eyes sparkled with delight as she re-enacted the conversation for Eric.

He knew she would be more determined than before to befriend the boy simply because her mother wished her not to. With Eric's help, Pamela Ravenscroft had become a bit of a "strong-willed" child herself. Although he had to admit that the new boy was becoming more intriguing, he still wasn't sure about the validity of Russell's reputation as a troublemaker - not when he had his own crown to protect.

"OK Pam, I'll try to talk to him again, find out what he's like. Besides a pain in the-"

"Be nice." His companion cut him off with a warning tone.

Shrugging in response he moved away from her and stalked to the other side of the road as she watched his back, wondering how he was so sure of himself. Knocking lightly on the door, he waited only a breath for a response before turning his back. Lowering himself off the porch with Pam looking on he heard the sound of the lock being unbolted. With all

the coolness he could summon he nodded a silent hello to the boy framed in the doorway. With equal disinterest Russell nodded in return.

"So, I just wanted to let you know, since I hear you have quite the reputation for being a shit-disturber, that this is my territory. And I don't plan to share."

To Eric's surprise the boy smiled genuinely at him, "Come in, please," he added through his grin.

Turning back to catch Pam's shocked expression as he climbed the stairs and entered the house, Eric realized he was not prepared for the invitation.

"Sweet tea?" the older boy offered. Eric shook his head and took in the room around him.

It was cluttered with more furniture, artwork, and glass than he had ever seen (including his trip to the State Museum). Antiques were nearly piled on top of one another, and there were still stacks of boxes that read "fragile" on the sides spread around the room. A wooden case with a glass lid displayed civil war era weapons with name-tags and dates next to each one. Silently, Eric reviewed each item carefully in awe of the wealth in the small house.

"My dad's collection. He was supposed to sell it all when they took the estate, but he and my mom hid a lot of it so he wouldn't have to."

Eric fought to hide the interest that was all over his face and composed his features just as he caught the edge of his rival's satisfied smirk.

"Yeah, history is not really my thing. I'm all about the here and now," Eric said, trying to sound superior.

"So, you were saying... You're some kind of sheriff in these parts?" Russell's tone was

mocking as he waved his hand around in an extravagant way Eric had seen actresses do in black and white movies.

"Hardly, I'm the one the sheriff has an eye on. And I don't want you thinking you can mess up what I've got going," Eric explained.

Russell sat on the corner of the chaise lounge that poked out from under a pile of books as Eric spoke; Eric took it as a signal the boy understood him.

"I am sure whatever little backwoods pranks you have pulled are nothing compared to the shit I have done," he rose from his seat and spat his words with venom. "I am willing to take you on as a sidekick, maybe, but I run the show," Russell retorted. Staring up into the younger but taller boy's eyes, he gave Eric a look that could melt the polar ice caps.

"You wish, little one." Eric patted the boy on the head, turned and walked out the front door with an expression of supreme satisfaction across his handsome features.

The tell-tale swagger informed Pam that Eric had either been successful in recruiting the new kid, or he had gotten into a fight and won. She didn't even wait for him to make it all the way across the street before she ran to his side and began questioning him about everything Russell. What happened? What was the house like? What was he like? What did he say?

After retelling the events in the most detail possible and answering every question his playmate could think of, Eric was ready to move on to a new topic. Pam reluctantly dropped the subject and sat down on the curb, patting it invitingly for him to join her. She didn't bring up the new boy again and the two spent the rest of the day in near silence.

Over the next week Eric and Pam saw each other very little as they prepared for school to start. Pam and her mother were out shopping for new clothes or supplies. Eric's mother attempted to drag him along on similar outings, but his protests were too numerous for her to ignore.

Russell was rarely seen outdoors except when heading to or from the car in his driveway. None of the other kids had tried to make friends with him either, just as Pam had predicted.

As was their custom, Eric and Pam walked the four blocks to school together on the first day of class. The strain still present between them made for a brisk but quiet walk. Eric knew Pam wanted to bring up the boy across the street and though he had always known her to speak her mind to him, even when she knew he wouldn't like what she had to say, he was distraught over the effect this newcomer had on them. They parted at the entrance with an understanding that they would see one another at recess.

The first block of the morning was painfully slow as the teacher reviewed all the names on the roster and each child was made to stand and tell everyone about how they spent their summer. After sitting through all the mumbling and ums, Eric was desperate to leave his seat. Not soon enough, but at long last it came time to break for a short time outside. Planting himself on the bench overlooking the playground, Eric waited for Pam to arrive.

Out of the corner of his vision a shadow caught Eric's attention, but the smile Pam usually brought to his lips faded when he realized Russell was standing before him instead.

"What do you want?"

"Just wanted to let you know that I have considered what you said, and I've decided you're no threat to me." The boy had an icy tone, but a bright smile.

Eric was about to speak, or toss Russell to the ground and teach him about respect, when Pam bounded up and flipped her wave of long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I was hoping you boys would make up."

Both turned and glowered at Pam, causing her to square her shoulders and hold her ground.

"We most certainly have not 'made up' because your friend here is the most stubborn and proud person I have ever met." Russell's straightened finger identified Eric as the cause of his rant.

"I like him that way, and once you get to know him, you will too," Pam stepped between them and smiled coyly through her lashes at the pair before her.

"Never going to happen," Eric said, sticking his nose in the air. "C'mon Pam, we don't need him." Getting to his feet, in hopes of reminding fellow children just how much taller he was, he turned his back to the flame-haired boy once again and tugged Pam by the arm.

For weeks Pam avoided any attempts to speak to Eric about the Edgington boy, and Eric was grateful for it. As autumn set in and Halloween approached, Pam mentioned the possibility of pulling some great pranks off at their teachers' expense, and Eric couldn't help but agree the opportunity was there. They had done it all in years past: toilet papered the school, washed the windows with shaving cream, rung the doorbell at teachers' homes only to have them discover a flaming bag of poop on the step. This year, Eric wanted to top it all (even more so with his new competition brewing).

Over the last few months Russell had already begun to push the limits of what Eric would allow, but he was not so much a leader as Eric was, and he had been caught twice already pulling pranks. The first time he filled the principal's car with water through the sunroof and added goldfish for effect. The second time he managed to black out all the white lines in the parking lot and repaint them closer together; it was an impressive feat and Eric admired how Edgington had been able to accomplish such a huge task in one night. There were more upsets that the older boy had not been accused of however, and that left the blame to fall to Eric.

Determined to show Russell the true spirit of trick-or-treat, Eric devised a way to obtain photographic evidence of his work to display to everyone in town. As the hallowed eve neared, he put the finishing touches on his costume and reviewed the plan with his all too

-willing followers.

Dressing for the annual school photo in honour of October 31st, he placed the plastic fangs he had purchased in his mouth and met Pam for their ritual walk to school. She was dressed in a flowery pink dress with flowing tulle, sporting a set of glittery wings on her back.

"What are you supposed to be?" Eric asked.

"I told you, I'm a fairy." Pam danced a little excited dance around him in response to his look of displeasure at the idea of having to be seen in public with her.

The other children made their way to the bleachers assembled in front of the school to be captured on film and printed in the yearbook. Pam and her leader, along with five of the sacrificial lambs whom they had managed to round up, climbed the stairs to the roof of the building. Instructing each of the children Eric intended to use as fodder in his plan to stand next to their own bucket of water, he held the rim of his own in his grip as he watched the proceedings below.

Costumes of every color and style took their seats on the benches, the red-haired Russell wearing a matador uniform among them. Giving the signal that the photographer was ready to snap the shutter, he waved his arms to garner the attention of all those assembled before him. When the fidgeting stopped the man reached his hand for the button.

Eric reached his own hand out to his troops and shouted, "Now!" to those lined on the roof with their fire power at the ready.

Water splashed down as the image froze in the camera's display window. Abandoning the buckets and running for the hall, Pam and Eric removed themselves from the scene of the crime with the other children close behind. Down below, the streaked make-up and soaking costumes of the faculty and students clung to cold wet bodies. Some voices roared out of anger but mostly out of laughter. Delighted by the sudden events, many of the school children were amused by the sight of their authority figures as drowned rats, caring little for their own appearances.

As Eric reached the landing and strolled calmly into the courtyard, Russell drew towards him, a soaking wet grin etched on his face from ear to ear.

"Let's put this all behind us, shall we? I truly think we can do great works together." His strong accent oozed the words from his mouth in a seductive way.

Eric nodded in return, offering his hand to Russell. Pam's sense of self-satisfaction was intensely high as the two shook on the silent agreement between them. A moment later Pam and Eric were alone in the hallway, the other children having taken cover from the impending punishment should anyone catch them lurking about in such chaos.

"Don't say a word, Pam, not a word. I know you are over the moon right now, but I still think he is weird. Did you hear the way he talks? Like he hangs out with old people or something. It's not normal."

"He's just ... flamboyant!" she countered.

"Maybe," Eric muttered as the two split up to search for their own places to keep under the radar.

After a few more weeks, Eric grew to enjoy Russell's take on the world, and although he still spoke strangely and was a big snob, he began to enjoy the company of the older boy. Meeting after school to plan more hijinks at the expense of the community became an activity Eric looked forward to, even more so when the meetings took place at the Edgington house so he could inspect Mr. Edgington's collection up close. Mrs. Edgington was rarely home before the dinner hour and that allowed Eric and Russell the privacy needed to conduct their business without fear of adults overhearing them.

Pam, according to her mother, was forbidden from having anything to do with Russell Edgington, and since his house was right across the street it made it difficult for her to attend. She was still so curious about what it was he had done that made him so hated by her mother. Once she and Eric were alone, she bombarded him with questions to ask the older boy, in a search for just what it was that made him so terrible; Eric, however, didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't know.

Russell enjoyed his secrets and, like any good card player, he never revealed his hand. Eric himself could not imagine anything that would lead to Russell being feared by a school official; Eric was indeed confident, but he had seen Russell charm adults with polite words and a shy act that worked magic Eric had yet to master. His own power came from his charisma and good looks; often times people would stop his mother to comment on the beauty of her child. His mind was sharp as well, and he likened himself to Napoleon, whom he had read about in one of his father's books. Manners he was aware of, but they were not his preferred method of dealing with others.

It became clear to Eric that his new friend, of sorts, enjoyed his boys club of two, often trying to keep Pam out of the planning and out of the mischief as well. At first Eric was upset by this, but over time he began to see how Pam, though loyal, had a tendency to be a bit lazy at times, and being younger she was not able to do as much as he. Slowly he allowed himself to distance that area of his life from her; despite her questions, she never seemed openly hurt by the development. She would make the odd snide remark about Russell, which Eric would not comment on, but she never downright said she missed Eric or the kind of fun they used to have. He let the weeks slide by and his time with Pam wane to simple affection he expressed during a class break or on their walks to school, but they began to grow in opposite directions.

"I have got the most amazing surprise for you after school, Eric." Russell inserted himself into the silence of their daily trek to class.

"Oh?" Eric's amused tone echoed in the brisk air.

"Not until after school," Russell repeated, reaching up to ruffle Eric's golden locks as he had taken to doing.

As the final bell rang to dismiss the students for the Thanksgiving break, Eric headed out the doors but did not turn and wait for Pam to catch up. His long stride carried him to the Edgington household so quickly he was waiting on the steps when his red-headed friend arrived, key in hand.

Escorting his guest into the bedroom, he removed a box from under his bed and opened the lid, revealing his newest possession. A crossbow and small quiver of arrows sat amongst the bubble wrap with a card from his father.

"I'm going to kill my first turkey with this, but first I need some practice. I figured you might want to help."

The blond boy was awestruck, never before had he been allowed to actually handle a weapon, although his father had many he used for hunting. The thought of killing a giant wild turkey and presenting it as a feast for his table awoke something primal within him, and he had a desire to spill blood like he had never before imagined.

Taking in the expression of wonder on Eric's face, Russell handed him the bow. "You can have the first turn," he said, before placing the arrows on his back and leading the boy through the back door and outside.

Without speaking the two boys walked for nearly a half a mile before reaching their destination: a field of tall grass bordered with trees that had somehow managed to survive the city's growth.

Taking the quiver from his shoulder, Russell moved in closely to Eric's side and showed him how to load the arrow. Aiming from the shoulder, he placed his hands over the younger boy's as he moved Eric's stiff posture into position. He took a step back and watched as another of Eric's natural talents shone though, his ability to pick up anything physical very quickly. As a natural athlete with large hands, the Northman boy excelled at just this kind of task, and Russell was delighted to see how well his current project was doing.

Releasing a second arrow, Eric managed to hit his intended target, a tree stump, fifteen feet in front of him. He had never felt so powerful, even with scores of followers to do his bidding and Pam's confidence in him; his own abilities and his accomplishments, none of it compared to the sweet taste of that weapon in his hands. When Russell had seen enough, he told Eric that his turn had come and with some convincing he managed to pry the bow from his friend's hands.

The boys cheered one another as they watched their arrows fly and retrieved them to fire again. The sun began to fall but neither was concerned about getting home while they had such a gift in their possession. At last it was too dark to see the targets and search for the misfired arrows; the boys decided they had to return home and face the wrath of their mothers they were sure to endure by coming home so late.

"Tomorrow? Come to my house in the morning?" Russell asked, when he saw the disappointment on Eric's face at having to give up the thrill of the evening.

"Sure," he said coolly, as not to give away too much excitement at the prospect of handling the weapon again.

The next morning Eric was ready bright and early, before his mother could rope him in to doing any last minute Thanksgiving chores. He told her he was hanging out with Pam but would be back in plenty of time to get cleaned up before the relatives arrived for dinner. As he cleared his breakfast dishes and rummaged around for his shoes, a knock came at the door and he sprung to answer it.

Pam had been instructed by her parents to bring a pie over to The Northman house for his parents, as her mother had baked a few too many. Thanking her and taking the pie, Mrs. Northman asked what the two children were up to. Always the best at going along with any story on the fly, Pam led Eric's mother to believe they were going for a bike ride and then heading to the park for a while. Smiling down at the beautiful fair-haired kids, Eric's mother was so pleased to see Eric and Pam together again; she had always hoped Pam would have a calming effect on her son.

As soon as they were clear of the house Pam questioned him about what it was he was really up to, but he brushed her off by saying it was just "stuff."

Taking the hint, Pam left to return home with tears in her eyes at being left out again. She had been ignoring Eric, sure that he would miss her and that he would call her back to him any day, but that was yet to happen. Climbing onto her bike, she kept a close watch for which direction her former best friend took; he had taught her everything she needed to know about surviving primary school, and she wasn't going to just let Russell have him anymore.

Waiting on the front step of his house with a bag slung over one shoulder, Russell greeted Eric with a grin and moved from the step to walk closely next to the younger boy. When they reached the field he emptied the contents of his sack, which included the coveted crossbow, a thermos of sweet tea, a variety of sandwiches, some cookies, and a blanket.

"I thought if we get hungry we can make a picnic of it," Russell said.

"Whatever, you want to go first?" Eric's shrug was not the reaction his friend had hoped to see.

"No, you go ahead. I saw some rabbits here the other day, and I know there are turkeys in these bushes sometimes. I want to spook them out, so aim for the trees."

Arrow after arrow broke branches and dropped leaves, but the boys had yet to see any real lifelike movement in the bushes. They took turns choosing targets for each other, both of them improving in accuracy very quickly. Checking the time, Russell offered the sandwiches again and laid out the blanket for the two to rest and eat.

"You know, I knew there was something about you when I met you. You are not like other boys." Russell gently stroked Eric's knee with his thumb as he spoke. Taking a gulp from the thermos, the younger boy met his gaze and did not like what he saw. It was a look he had seen the girls at school give him when watching him across the playground. No boy had ever looked at him like that, neither had Pam.

In that moment he missed her and their comfortable friendship that didn't involve odd silences and strange tension.

Wary of what exactly the older boy was saying, Eric shoved the rest of his lunch in his mouth and stood up to brush the crumbs from his pants.

"Uh, yeah, you are not like anyone else either," Eric said, shifting away from Russell's reach.

"I think we really have something here, a partnership that we can build on."

"Uh huh, I guess. Do you want to shoot? Maybe I should see if I can rustle anything out of the bush." Eric moved further and faster as he looked for the shelter of the brush.

Russell was faster than he could have imagined, and suddenly they were nearly eye to eye as the shorter boy reached up to plant a kiss on Eric's lips.

Pushing him away with shock and surprise, Eric saw Russell fall on his backside and attempt to regain his balance quickly.

"I have to go," Eric's voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it before as he turned his back.

"I think you should stay, you might like it."

"Look, man, that's not cool OK? I am just not like that." Picking up the pace and the volume in his voice, Eric retreated further towards the sidewalk.

"You don't know what you're missing," Russell taunted him and once again seemed to muster an incredible speed to reach Eric as he tried to pull him down into another kiss.

Fighting off the attack, Eric fell to the ground and backed himself onto the blanket. The older boy stalked him with an assurance his goal would be met as Eric reached behind him to aim the bow at his pursuer.

"You gonna shoot me, Northman?"

"Not sure yet," Eric felt his boldness return as he grasped the weapon.

Russell was sure Eric Northman was not a killer, but he backed away and let the boy find his footing again. With his arms half-heartedly raised to his chest, he asked if he was allowed to at least have his gift back, seeing as it was from his father.

As Eric pondered Russell's nature, he noticed Pam's bicycle resting against a tree some distance away and wondered how much of the exchange she had witnessed. He couldn't see her and was afraid that Russell would be able to reach her before him if his temper boiled too high. Stalling, he kept the older boy talking as he scanned the area for his dearest friend.

Russell inched his way across the grass like a cat nearing its prey; he seemed ready to pounce when Pam sprung up and grabbed him around the neck from behind. She scratched him and bit at his hands as he tried to grab hold of her hair. With a single move, Russell entwined his fingers in the girl's golden locks and pulled her off of him only to toss her to the ground and kick her.

Enraged at this act, Eric charged the boy responsible, letting his grip on the bow move to one hand. Forcing Russell down, Eric delivered a few kicks of his own in hopes of keeping his foe on the ground while getting Pam back up.

Reaching for her hand, he saw her smile return to her face, and he couldn't help but let a laugh escape as he realized her thrill of the fight. It had been a very long time since the two had needed to resort to any kind of violence, but Pam seemed to revel in it. As she brushed herself clean and hobbled into Eric's arms, Russell let a moan bubble up his

throat and broke the moment between them.

The older boy gritted his teeth and rose to his feet once again in an attempt to show them both he would not be beaten so easily. Eric raised the bow in his hand to illustrate that it was a fight he had won.

"I'll get her; one day you won't be there, and I'll get her," Russell motioned to Pam as he let his hate-filled words seethe from his mouth.

Releasing the cocked arrow from the bow, Eric watched as it intentionally flew past the fiery-haired boy as a warning. Only when he heard the terrible cry of pain did his victory smile fade. Pam looked up at him with worry as they both glanced towards the arrow's destination to see nothing but grass.

No longer afraid of the Edgington boy, Pam ran past him to search through the tall grass with the hopes of locating the target. As she came to a stop and knelt down in the grass everything around her seemed to disappear. She must have let out a sound because a second later Eric's legs were next to hers as he crouched at her side. The tears filled her eyes as she tried to find the words to shout for help.

Russell's words stung him most as Eric looked down at the blood spilled in the grass.

"Nice kill," his former friend said proudly, taking in the dying animal before him.

The Labrador whined and panted for breath as the crimson liquid spilled out of his chest. It was obvious the arrow pierced his lung and most likely his heart as well. Pam tried to move the head of the poor creature into her lap as she patted him softly and cried. Eric's own tears stung his eyes as he turned them on Russell who was hovering over the scene.

"I didn't mean to hurt it! I would never kill a dog. Get away from me. Go!" He pushed at the boy's legs as he shouted, throwing the bow away from himself.

Pam looked up to see Russell walking away proudly with his weapon in hand. She wiped her runny nose on her sleeve as she watched the dog's chest stop moving in time with his breath. Her sobs broke the silence, and Eric held her closely to his chest as she pounded him with her fists, his own tears spilling down his face.

"I'm sorry, Pam. I didn't..." Eric's voice cracked under the weight of his guilt and his words eluded him.

"I know," Pam replied while burying her face further into his chest and trying to catch hold of her breath.

They sat in a huddle of limbs wrapped around one another with nothing but the odd sound between them for a long time. Pam's thoughts were on the poor animal at her knees, but they quickly turned to a hatred for the boy who had caused the rift between her and Eric. She began to quake with anger, but her companion mistook her shivers for coldness and pulled her closer to him. His own thoughts circled through the events of the day as he replayed the sounds and images of the injured animal beside him. Never had he been so afraid before. Not only was he worried about how Pam would look at him, how it was possible she wouldn't love him as she did before, but he worried about anyone else finding out.

Was he supposed to tell someone about what he did so they could take the dog away? What could he say? What if his mother was disgusted with him? He had never feared punishment before, but the blood on his hands was the worst thing he had ever done, and he knew he deserved to be hated for it.

The girl in his arms wriggled, and it stirred him from his mind. He had yet to look her in the eye, fearful of what he might see there, but as she turned her face to look at his there was no hatred there for him, and his tears sprung up anew.

Wiping her thumb across his cheek she pulled his face to rest his forehead on her own, "No one has to know," she said.

He breathed deeply and pulled back to frame her face with his hands. "I don't think I deserve that," he whispered.

"We'll bury it, I'll help, it was an accident; you would never... I mean, not like this," Pam's words began to catch in her throat again as she spoke, but she pressed on. "It's not going to bring him back if you tell someone, you'll just get in trouble and I know you feel bad enough that you don't need that. It doesn't have any tags, so it might just be a stray; please, let's just get rid of him."

"OK," was the only response Eric could muster.

Digging with his hands as deep as he could get, he began to feel numb, as if he was outside himself looking down on a boy he had never met, digging a grave for an unknown dog. When it was done they rolled the body the few feet over and covered it up with their hands, patting the ground with their shoes. Neither spoke while they worked. Pam seemed to have recovered herself, and it was obvious to Eric that her strength, which he delighted in, had returned to her.

His own would take much longer to return. Remembering that moment when he first held the weapon in his hand, the idea of the power behind it under his control made him recoil from himself. There was a time, not long before, that he had desired to spill the blood of an animal; he imagined the sweetness of the moment when he would collect his spoils and return home triumphant with a feast for his family. But the taste was not so sweet, now that he had seen death. There was no question that he would have killed Russell had he done Pam any serious harm, but he knew he would never look at things the way the older boy did; he would never become a killing machine with no remorse. There was need and there was desire, and he now knew what the difference was.

Pam laced her fingers through his own, and he began the slow thaw that would lead him to his mother's dinner table. Climbing on her bike, she rode beside him at a slow pace as he moved with the posture of an elderly man. Each took their separate ways once they reached the cul-de-sac, parting with strained smiles.

Reaching his front door, Eric was greeted by his mother who instructed him to change his clothes, wash under his fingernails and set the table. She looked on him as she always did, as a mother who loves her child, even when he comes home late and filthy. He was glad she didn't question him about his appearance as he trudged off to get cleaned up for dinner.

When he came back down he paused at the bottom of the stairs and smiled at the thought of his mother and all she did for him. She had defended him against his teachers, the other parents in the neighbourhood, and even to his father. He would always feel the guilt of what he had done, but he was glad Pam had convinced him not to tell anyone about his horrible actions. He loved the way his mother looked at him. and he hoped to never lose that.

As aunts and uncles filled the house and the family assembled for dinner each member was asked to go around the table and tell everyone else what they were thankful for that day. When Eric's turn came, he stood, and truthfully (for the first time in years) delivered the answer to the traditional question.

"I am thankful for my mother, who puts up with all I do." He made a mental note as the tears formed in his mother's eyes to not fight her so much on the little things.

When he returned to school he was also grateful to learn that Russell had been expelled after breaking into the gymnasium over the holiday and spray-painting profanity on the mural of the school mascot. He had even signed his name. Gym classes were cancelled and the doors locked to prevent anyone seeing just what he wrote.

Pam's usual curiosity was not up to par with the events of the weekend, and Eric wondered if she wasn't just as haunted by his actions as he was. In an effort to break the tension he imagined between them, he asked her if she was OK.

"Sure, why do you ask? Do I not seem OK?" Her eyebrows raised and her nose crinkled as if she was checking to see if there was something in her teeth.

"No, it's just that it's not like you to ignore something as huge as this. I mean, he was expelled, plus they are keeping pretty tight-lipped about what he wrote, so it must have been really bad."

Pam's lips came together in a tight little grin before exploding into a huge toothy smile. "I guess I just don't need to know this time." Her gaze shifted and she tried to change the subject to the weather.

"Pam, did you ..." his brows knit together as the question died on his lips. "I mean, you know he'll still live across the street, and we'll still have to see him even if he doesn't go to school."

"I have no idea what you are insinuating, Mr. Northman. _You're_ the big prankster, aren't you?"

"Not anymore; it seems someone else has taken my place," he said, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her body to his as he slowed his pace to match her stride. "I can't help but wonder what you wrote on that wall that was bad enough to get him expelled."

Coming to a halt and reaching up on tip toes, the girl cupped her hands around Eric's ear and whispered her secrets to him, watching with pride as the smile broke his lips, and his astonished face turned to take her in.


End file.
